Addicted
by Londra
Summary: He was addicted and he knew it. DARK. Oneshot. DracoHermione.


**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is not mine. It should not be mine. I do not want it to be mine.

**Author: **Londra

**Title: **Addicted

**Summary: **He was addicted and he knew it. One-shot. DARK. Draco-Hermione

**Rating: **R (Restricted – Not suitable for readers under 17) Because I'm scared of the administration and don't want to under-rate R.

**Fiction Rating: **M (Contains content suitable for mature teens and older - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with possible strong but non-explicit adult themes, references to violence, and strong coarse language.)

**Warnings: **Please do not read if you think the darkness and angst in this story may displease or disturb you. Thank you.

**ADDICTED**

You want her to be with you.

You're addicted.

You tried so hard.

Very hard.

Everyday, you repeated to yourself over and over again.

"I hate her.

I hate her.

I hate her."

But you know, it doesn't work.

One can never force an emotion out of himself.

Even if you are a Malfoy.

So, you tried to listen to what everyone was saying.

You tried to forget about her.

You tried.

You spent nights awake trying to forget about her.

The more you tried, the more you thought about her.

The more you thought about her, the more you fell in love.

If possible.

It just didn't work.

Every time you saw her, all of your artificial hatred just vanished.

Every time she smiled, your loathing flew away.

You just didn't know what you were doing.

So you put up an act.

The way you were supposed to.

You just concealed all your emotions behind a spiritless smirk.

You convinced everyone you were a ruthless bastard.

Because that was who you really were, actually.

Your eyes would wonder over to the opposite side of the Great Hall.

Trying to catch a glance of her.

You smiled.

Not a heart-warming one like her.

An ordinary smile.

Just plain.

Nothing special about it.

But you smiled very rarely.

That, you supposed, made it special.

She was pretty.

She wasn't charming perhaps, but pretty was good enough for you.

You wanted her to be with you.

You were addicted.

ooo-ooo-ooo

Time passed, and it was time to graduate.

You watched her for the last time that year.

She proudly walked up to that podium and made her speech as Head Girl.

Her eyes were holding joy and sorrow at the same time.

Yours only held despair.

She laughed before she left.

A nervous laugh it was.

She bit her lip as she tried to stifle a tear.

You wanted her to be with you.

You were addicted.

You looked up at her for the last time.

You weren't ready to forget about her.

But you were dragged away.

You were different.

You were born different.

There wasn't anything you could do about that.

You would have wanted to stand up.

Scream out.

"Damn the rules.

Damn pureblood and mudblood.

Damn everything, girl.

I love you."

But you couldn't.

You never did.

Later on, regret would haunt you.

But at that moment, staying silent seemed like the most rational thing to do.

Sad.

Pretty sad.

You cared about rationality those days.

ooo-ooo-ooo

A few years later, you saw her in Diagon Alley.

Nothing was special about the day.

There was a boring old sky.

Blue was smudged by the grey clouds.

She just walked past you.

She looked exhausted.

However, her face was lit up in a weak smile.

Despite the weather.

Despite all the weight she was carrying.

Despite the upcoming war.

Despite everything.

You wanted her to be with you.

You were addicted.

You wondered how she could keep on smiling.

There was nothing left to smile for.

There was nothing worth smiling for.

She just walked past you.

She didn't look at you.

She didn't even notice you.

You wanted her to stop her.

Shove her up against the door of Flourish & Blotts.

Push her body close to yours.

Kiss her.

Give her a brutal kiss.

That would have been enough to explain it all.

But you never did.

There were people watching.

Sad.

Pretty sad.

You cared about people those days.

ooo-ooo-ooo

And now, it's late.

Too late.

You're in war.

You are standing over her.

Your wand is pointing to her chest.

She is writhing under you.

Trying to escape.

You don't know what to do.

You can feel people behind you screaming.

Many people dying.

What does it matter if this one dies too?

Nothing, really.

But to you, it matters.

She's begging under you.

Would you have ever wanted to see her like this?

You don't think so.

Her lips quivers.

You want the old bossy know-it-all back.

The one who would probably go as far as criticize the way you're holding your wand at the moment.

The image of her lying underneath you and begging, doesn't suit her.

She isn't meant to be like this.

It gives you even more pain as she mutters prayers.

You don't move.

You just stand over her, struggling to decide.

You can have kill her if you want.

But is that what you really want?

No, definitely not.

You want her to be with you.

You're addicted.

Suddenly, she starts screaming at you.

You stop and listen.

You're happy again.

Her old self is back.

The way you always pictured her.

She's yelling at you for taking so long.

You just watch her.

Her bushy hair is messed up and scattered around her face.

Mud is smeared all over her face.

She screams for help.

You sneer, because you know there won't be anyone coming.

You sneer again, because she's expecting someone to come.

You continue to watch her for a while.

You can't really understand why she's smiling.

Just as you turn to look behind, a severe ache attacks your skull.

Weasley just hit you with a dark curse.

Obviously, help did come.

You'll be dead in a few moments.

You laugh.

A maniacal, evil laughter escapes your throat.

You slowly feel the life flooding away from your veins.

You never imagined it to be like this.

You could have had her in so many different ways.

But you're dying.

There is nothing you can do to stop that.

She should come with you.

If that's the only way, then let it be.

You fall on the ground as a streak of green light flies from your wand.

You drag her with you as you release your last breath.

You wanted her to be with you.

So, she will be with you.

ooo-ooo-ooo

You're addicted.

You always were.

You'll always be.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, I know. I'm the most insanely evil creature to ever step on this planet. 

Most of you probably hate me by now.

You're never going to read any of my other stories because they're probably just like this one.

But still, I would appreciate it if you reviewed and let me know what you thought of this.


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